


Lunatic

by StellaBlack



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Drama & Romance, F/M, Love, Osdrum, Osdrums, Redemption, Romance, Simm!Master, The Master x Clara Oswald, Unlikely Pairing, Unlikely Ship, crack ship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-14 03:23:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11199456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StellaBlack/pseuds/StellaBlack
Summary: The Master captures the Doctor's impossible companion in an attempt to lay trap to his rival, but he never expected to fall for the girl named Clara Oswald, and she most certainly would never consider falling for him... right?





	1. Chapter 1

Clara woke up, feeling groggy, like she'd been hit over the head and dragged somewhere. Opening her eyes and glancing around, she was bewildered to find herself in what looked liked the TARDIS ... except it was different. Remembering how the TARDIS has changed her interior design throughout in the Doctor's life, she wondered absentmindedly if the Doctor had gone and changed the desktop. But this wasn't just different ... It felt sinister somehow.

With a groan, she brought her hand to her forehead, and memories flooded back to her. It was a Wednesday. She'd been waiting for the Doctor to arrive, standing on the balcony of her apartment, when the door had opened. Expecting the Doctor, she had run towards it, only to be hit over the head with a foreign object. The next thing she knew, she was waking up here.

Sitting up, she looked towards the unfamiliar console to see a man with white-blonde hair flying the TARDIS with ease as he tapped a four note beat on the side of it, over and over again. He looked strangely familiar, like someone she'd seen on TV years ago ... Clara coughed and he glanced over to her, grinning maniacally. A chill ran down her spine, mixed with a feeling she couldn't yet identify. "Ah! You're awake! I wondered how long you'd be asleep," he said to her.

Clara stood up and took a step towards him, but decided to keep her distance, gripping the rail as she stared at him, her arms crossed. "Who the hell are you?"

"They call me..." he spun around in a circle for effect and said the last two words with relish, "The Master."

Clara snorted. "You don't seriously expect me to call you that, do you?"

He tilted his head, wondering why she wasn't more afraid of him. "Errrrrrr yeah. I do actually."

She scoffed. "Fat chance of that. Where's the Doctor, and what've you done to the TARDIS?"

The Master laughed mirthlessly. "Don't be silly, little companion! This is my TARDIS, and I've no idea where the Doctor is. That's where you come in!"

Clara quirked an eyebrow, pretending she was just annoyed at being called little. "Watch it, Blondie, I might be short, but I can pack a punch."

He smirked. "Whatever," he said, waving off her threat, slightly amused by the surprisingly pretty girl. Not that he'd noticed.

She rolled her eyes, determined not to show the fear that was currently gathering in the pit of her stomach. Wiping her irritatingly sweaty hands on her skirt, she stepped closer and asked carefully, "Why've you kidnapped me? If you wanted to meet the Doctor, you could've just waited for him to show up at my door." Her voice quivered slightly, and she coughed in an attempt to cover it up.

The Master looked at her like she was an idiot and heaved a great sigh before explaining, even though he was sort of enjoying showing off his plans. "You silly girl, I'm working on capturing the Doctor, not trying to have a chat over fish and chips."

"Oh," she said simply, feeling dumb for not realizing it sooner. "I'm the bait."

He nodded with a flourishing bow. "Correct! Now go make yourself useful while I figure out which planet to trap our dear friend on." He pointed to an open door that looked to lead down a hallway.

"And how exactly am I supposed to... " Clara put the rest in air quotes, imitating the Master's voice, "Make myself useful?" She glared at him, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from shouting.

He shrugged and looked at her coldly. "I'm hungry. Go find the kitchen and make me something to eat."

Clara breathed out through gritted teeth, not keen on helping the madman regain his strength. Still though, she could make a soufflé while she tried to figure out what the Doctor would do in her situation. She nodded curtly and huffed out the door without looking back. She didn't notice him watch her leave, a strangely curious look in his eyes.

Wandering through the halls of the unfamiliar TARDIS, the Doctor's companion was having trouble finding the kitchen, and even more trouble not crying. She stuck her chin up, imagining the Doctor finding her missing. She knew he'd be able to find her eventually—Clara had faith in the Doctor's abilities. She just hoped he'd be able to do it without falling into the Master's traps. She scoffed to herself. What kind of maniac went by the name of "The Master?" He was obviously another Time Lord, like the Doctor ... but how had he escaped Gallifrey's time-locked pocket universe? Or had he even been trapped there in the first place?

Clara racked her brains, trying to remember if the Doctor had ever mentioned this man who obviously had some sort of score to settle. She stopped for a moment and leaned against the wall, shutting her eyes. If she concentrated hard enough, she could pull up memories from her echoes, tucked away in the corners of her brain. The ordeal always gave her a headache, but if any of her echoes had run across this guy, it'd be worth the pain.

She sighed after a few minutes of searching, holding a hand to her forehead and wishing she had an aspirin. No luck. Determined to try again later, she set off again in her other search—the pursuit of the kitchen. "That Master guy better keep eggs and milk on hand," she mumbled under her breath.

About ten minutes and fifteen checked rooms later, Clara flung open the door to an adorably quaint kitchen, one that was quite different from the Doctor's kitchen. She breathed a sigh of relief. "At last," she said, smiling widely. She looked around herself, in awe of the room and its decor. She couldn't help but feel happy in it, even though she knew full well the danger she was in on this TARDIS that wasn't the Doctor's. It surprised her how different, yet strangely similar the two space-craft were ... she wondered if the Master's TARDIS would share the same dislike the Doctor's had for her.

Throwing open the refrigerator door, she grinned yet again. It was fully stocked. Pulling out the ingredients she needed, she grabbed a bowl from one of the cabinets lining the wall and set to work on what she hoped would be the best soufflé she'd ever made.

It wasn't.


	2. Chapter 2

The smell of burning sent the Master running. Crashing into the kitchen, he watched the brown-haired girl hitting the burning creation with a towel, trying to put the fire out.

"What-what the hell are you doing?" he asked, flabbergasted, staring at her with wide eyes.

"Putting out a fire!" she yelled back at him. When he didn't move to help, she quickly grabbed the bowl she had used for mixing and tossed it at him. "Fill it with water, you idiot!"

He caught it, too stunned not to obey, and went to fill it in the sink before Clara grabbed it and tossed the water onto the flames, finally putting the fire out. They stood side by side for a moment, staring at the soufflé, which was burnt out of recognition. The Master gaped at her.

"Well," she said softly, "I think that may be my worst one yet."

"Worst one what?" he asked, utterly confused by the woman.

"Soufflé!" she told him lightly, smiling a little as she sidestepped him to grab it with her gloves and toss it into the trash.

He quirked an eyebrow. "You were making me a soufflé?"

Clara laughed nervously. "Ahhh, no. Not exactly." She pointed at a rather meager looking sandwich sitting on the table. "That, I made for you."

He looked at the sandwich incredulously, then glanced back at her. "You're a lunatic," he breathed, tapping out the four-count beat on the counter.

She snorted, raising an eyebrow. "Speak for yourself."

He gestured to the sandwich. "You expect me to eat that? Just that?" The Master inspected the item—it looked to contain two thin slices of an unknown meat.

"What, did ya expect me to cut off the crust?" she asked with a smirk, looking at him smugly.

"No," he sneered at her, a little too defensively. He took a bite, engulfing half the sandwich, thinking. Lucy had always cut off the crusts for him. He had assumed it was customary. Apparently not...

She watched him chew unsatisfactorily, unable to keep the grin off her face. He was acting like an impetuous child.

"Why's it so damn dry?" he growled at her, yanking open the refrigerator and searching for a drink.

"Because," Clara told him, standing her ground. "Kidnappers don't deserve condiments."

He snorted, laughing into the cold air. She had spunk—he rather liked that. The Master rolled his eyes, grabbing the milk and downing it as Clara watched in horror. She resisted the strong urge to scold him. He turned around and looked at her, lowering the jar from his lips. "What?" he barked.

"You... You know we have things called cups, right?" she asked him a little tentatively.

"Obviously," he said disdainfully. "And your point, silly girl?"

"I have a name, you know," she retorted, not answering his question.

He raised an eyebrow and returned to devouring the rest of the sandwich. "Like I care," he said, his mouth full.

She turned her eyes away from him, not enjoying the view.

He swallowed and walked away slowly, turning back to face her at the door. "I want two more sandwiches, and this time they better have more meat and some mayonnaise," he ordered. The Master rocked back and forth for a moment, considering. "And cut the crusts off," he added as an afterthought, before storming out as dignified as he could.

Clara dissolved into a heap of giggles as soon as he was out of earshot. The man was certifiably insane, she decided, besides the fact that he scared her to death ... but he was kinda cute too.

Clara entered the console room, her chin up. She precariously held a plate with the sandwiches in one hand, and a glass of water in the other. She watched him standing there, pushing buttons and examining the Gallifreyan words that swirled around the monitor. "Ahem," she coughed, alerting the Master to her presence.

He spun around and gave her an annoyed look. "What do you want?" he grumbled.

Clara held up the sandwiches and smirked. "Delivery for psycho kidnapper!" she told him in her most annoying singsong voice.

He glared at her and went to snatch the plate from her. She held it away from him. "Ah, no... What's the magic word?"

"Wha-what?" the Master responded, thinking. "Give it to me or I'll kill you!" He whipped out his laser screwdriver and pointed it at her.

Clara tensed up, but then she rolled her eyes, determined not to show any of the fear that threatened to bubble over her calm demeanor. "Actually, the word is 'please,'" she sneered at him, but handed the plate over anyway and took a step back.

"Thanks," he told her sarcastically, before taking a bite.

Clara eyed the device in his other hand. "Is that a sonic?" she asked cautiously, handing him the glass when he reached for it.

He made a face. "No, who do you think I am? Sonic's are stupid. This-" He smirked, flipping the device around. "Is a laser screwdriver. Much more useful."

"How so?" she asked, unable to disguise her curiosity.

He tilted his head, a glint in his eye. "Sonic's are harmless, by and large ... Laser devices, on the other hand..." The Master bit his bottom lip and trailed off, watching for her reaction.

"Oh," she said simply, "I see." She faked a smile, and he rolled his eyes.

"Lighten up, woman, I'm not going to use it on you," he told her, then bounced on his toes, thinking aloud, "Not yet any way. The Doctor's not likely to come if he thinks you're dead."

Clara gulped involuntary. "Right..." she intoned, drawing out the word, "And that's supposed to make me feel better how?" She fixed him with a hard look, daring him to try to make it better.

The Master shrugged and took another bite of his sandwich, thinking. "Well," he said as he swallowed, "You're free to move around aren't you?"

Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she shrugged, copying his movement. "Suppose so."

"So try to be a little more cheerful. Your moping is annoying," he told her before turning on his heels to return to the console. He'd much preferred the cheeky comments she'd been making earlier. He actually liked them a little more than he cared to admit.

Clara huffed. "Moping? Who's moping?" she called after him.

"Hmmm," the Master intoned, mock speculating. "That would be you. Unless I picked up another one of your insufferable lot by mistake."

She scowled and came up beside him. "Nope! Just me," she told him, throwing on a better face, "The insufferable Clara Oswald."

He glanced at her and grinned. So that was what the girl was called. "Clara Oswald," he breathed, inaudible to the girl beside him.

"Hmmm?" she asked, looking up at him, wondering about the expression on his face.

"Nothing!" he snapped at her, returning to his previous demeanor, "Go to your room, you're distracting me."

Clara coughed, giving him an incredulous look. "Mmmm I'd love too, but I haven't exactly got one on this TARDIS," she said, adding under her breath, "you blithering idiot."

He gave an over dramatic sigh, "There's plenty of rooms to pick from. Go find one." He turned away from her, shoeing her out like a cat.

"If you insist," she said, resigned but quite irritated. She watched him for a moment before turning on her heels and leaving the console room, overwhelmed. Back in the kitchen she had thought about trying to sabotage the TARDIS, but had decided not to, considering the fact she had no idea how to do so, and no way to get home if she succeed. Clara carried herself down the corridors, knowing exactly which room she wanted—one she'd run across during her search for the kitchen. One that faintly reminded her of the Doctor.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I've finally decided to post Lunatic over here on AO3. I'd appreciate any comments you may have. :)


End file.
